Wrong In All the Right Ways
by persevera
Summary: More Damily-With everything in the open, will it be "all too much" for Damian and Emily?-"Emily," he began hesitantly, "you're not the only one with a perfect memory. It was a truly great weekend. It was wrong of me to try to force you into more."
1. Compelled

Emily answered the insistent buzzer for the outside door of her apartment building.

"Emily, it's Damian. Let me in," she heard the young man's voice on the other end.

She had mixed reactions to the voice, excited and dejected at the same time.

"Damian, you shouldn't be here. I told you last week we shouldn't see each other again. I'm just not right for you."

She heard the anger in his voice over the pouring rain. "Do you think I'm down here freezing my ass off for you to give me the same lame excuse I didn't believe the first time?"

She sighed deeply in frustration.

"I'm here to talk, Cha Cha," Damian continued, "and I'll stay as long as it takes. So you're basically a prisoner in your apartment until you let me in."

Emily was startled by his mention of her comic alter ego. He had only seen her as Cha Cha once when they were Glee Project contestants. How did he know she sometimes used that name in her emails and texts?

"It's Alex, isn't it," she asked, mentioning another former contestant and her confidant. "He's always had a soft spot for you."

"He has a soft spot for us," Damian answered. "Now open the damn door."

Emily sighed again as she pressed the button to allow him admittance to the building. "It's number…"

"I know what number it is," he said impatiently, "I'll be right there."

She got a towel and a blanket, thinking as she did, _He's going to despise me now-so much for being that gleam in his eye that his future wife wouldn't understand. Damn you, Alex.  
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She did a quick tidying of the room_, _dusting the coffee table in front of the love seat and fluffing the arm chairs on either side of it._  
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At the sound of the door knock, Emily's pulse quickened and she resorted to her fallback position of aggressive flirt. "Oh, baby," she said when she saw a drenched Damian standing at the door, "you're soaked. Let me have your jacket, take off your shoes-okay, don't. Come here," she instructed, leading him to the love seat.

She wrapped the blanket over his shoulders then straddled him as she dried his head with the towel.

"What are you doing standing in the cold out here anyway," she asked sweetly, almost motherly. "You should be in L.A, banging an extra in a trailer or playing FIFA with Cameron."

She moved closer for a kiss. "But as long as you're here…."

Damian moved her off his lap. "I love that Emily as much as any man," he said, "but that's not who I came to talk to."

In a downcast voice, she asked, "Do you want some coffee?"

"Fine," he said shortly.

Attempting once more to compensate for her nerves, she leaned over the back of the sofa, close to his face, and asked "Do you want it hot and sweet like yourself?"

"How about black, like my mood," he shot back.

"Yeesh, okay," she said, going to start the coffee and still trying to downplay the tension between them.

She stood quietly in the narrow, dim-lit kitchen, her thoughts spinning. _I was right. He does hate me now. Damn you, Alex,_ she said again to herself.

Then she felt Damian move behind her, wrapping her up with him in the blanket.

"This is what I need to warm me," he said huskily, in a tone she remembered from last weekend. "It's what I've needed all week."

"Two minutes ago you rejected me," Emily said confusedly, her arms pressing against her sides.

He hugged her tighter as he said, "You had your armor on. I couldn't feel you. But now, you're soft and warm and feel so good. This was worth flying across the country for."

Emily was still baffled. "I thought you were mad at me."

"I'm livid," Damian said as he buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder.

Her eyes closed and her head tilted back. She could feel herself succumbing to his touch but managed to ask, "Then why are you holding me...running your hands all over me…nibbling my neck?"

"Because it's all I've wanted to do all week. It's the only thing I could think about," he answered.

He turned her around to face him. "Haven't you wanted me to hold you, run my hands over you?"

The next few seconds took on a dream-like quality for Emily, as Damian described his actions.

"…rub my face against your soft cheek… move down to your mouth….deep kisses."

She allowed herself to respond to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and parting her lips for his deep kiss. _Just enjoy it while you can,_ she told herself, _it'll be over soon enough once he's thinking again and remembers what you did._

She shuddered a little at that thought and Damian felt it.

"You're still fighting me, Emily," he said softly, "but you're fighting yourself too…why?"

He lifted her onto the counter top and stood in front of her. "Talk to me."

She looked down and said hesitantly, "It was just supposed to be a really great weekend."

He nodded. "It was a great weekend. I want more. I don't only want your insanely hot body, though God knows how much I do. I want to know how your mind works," he said, placing his hand on her temple.

He lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. "I want the excitement I feel around you. I want the hot Emily who greeted me at the door and the baby Emily I found in here, who for a moment, I just wanted to wrap my arms around to make her feel better. I want your strength and sass, your softness and sweetness and your heat. I want all of you," he finished, sliding her on the counter even closer to him.

"That's why I'm here," he said, his breathing becoming labored through his desire. He asked with difficulty, "Why don't you want me here?"

Emily disengaged herself and again lowered her head. She rubbed her foot along the outside of Damian's leg as she repeated, "It was just supposed to be one great weekend and a great memory. Now your greed has spoiled that. "

She hopped down from the counter and went back to the main room. "A lot of the people I've been with, I've ended up regretting the time I spent with them. You were supposed to be different."

He trailed her back to the main room, as she went to sit on the love seat and looked up at him.

"For that period of time," she explained, "I felt like the girl of his dreams for a real sweetheart, who unexpectedly had a powerful physical effect on me."

She was quiet for a moment organizing her thoughts. "But you know what I did to put us there, how I manipulated you and your friends. I tried to tell you before that you couldn't understand what others might do to have a little of the things that come to you so damned easily. I just appeared on your doorstep but I had to plan and connive for weeks."

She looked around the room, down at her hands in her lap, anywhere but at Damian. "And I still can't tell you exactly why I did it. I just got this idea of the two of us in my head and I couldn't shake it so I became like this really resourceful fangirl. "

She held her head in her hands. _Oh, God, this is embarrassing,_ she thought.

She continued with effort. Tossing back her long, black hair, she concentrated on the throw pillow in her lap. "Right now, because you're lusting for me, you're not thinking of that. But when you do, I'm going to be pathetic to you and deceitful and just…low. And that's what I'll have to replace the perfect memory. Your greed and selfishness might be your only faults, but you're taking a lot from me, less honorable as I am."

Standing a couple of feet behind the love seat and looking down at her as she tried so hard not to openly weep, Damian felt as though he were uncharacteristically swimming in emotion.

_People have done real damage to her,_ he realized.

His fists clenched as he thought of them-the unscrupulous music producers, the callous former lovers and before them, the people who had confused her in her formative years—maybe a creepy uncle who was a little too interested in her development or older boys in the neighborhood who might have flattered her and made her an object of desire before she was ready. _They should all suffer at my hands,_ Damian thought, _No one will ever hurt her like that again._

Emily brushed the tears from her eyes and raised her shoulders, trying to regain her composure.

_Beautiful, brave woman,_ he said to himself. He couldn't express it but seemed to realize that with her flirty, sassy armor, she looked strong and carefree but beneath it, she was still the fragile little girl who took the first blows to her self-esteem and innocence.

To break through the defenses she was putting up again, he knew he would have to be direct, maybe a little harsh.

He moved to the front of the sofa, looking down on her. "Of course I'm lusting for you. I can see you; that's all it takes. But it's not clouding my judgment."

He crouched down so they were at eye level. "Look at me Emily."

She raised her heavy lids and he could see the new defensiveness in her dark brown eyes and the set of her mouth.

"You're not a pretty little spider spinning your evil webs," he said. "And forgive me for being coarse, but for someone that I fawked senseless just a few days ago, you have me on a damned high pedestal. I have plenty of faults. Yes, I'm greedy and self-centered and I have a bit of a mean streak."

Emily's knitted her brows in query.

Damian continued. "I've known something since I came in here that could have relieved your worry but I liked seeing you off your game. I didn't know it was the reason you've been driving both of us bonkers. If I had, I would have shown you first thing. That's the self-centeredness. I'll take care of it now."


	2. Chosen

Emily watched Damian rise and move to the door and take his phone from the pocket of his jacket. How was that going to ease her mind or address her deception?

He returned to sit on the coffee table in front of the love seat. "When I found out that you had…blocked my number, I had a talk with Samuel then I had a longer talk with Alex. He sent me some emails and text messages that he had saved."

Damian began running his finger on his phone's screen, pulling up data. He adopted a higher, effete tone of voice as he began reading.

"Cutie pie Damian…" He looked up at Emily and pointed to himself "…isn't so cute anymore."

"That's a matter of opinion," he mumbled, as he returned to the screen.

Back to Alex's voice, he read "I always thought the two of you would be good together…"

"Stop making fun of him," Emily interjected heatedly.

Damian looked up. "I'm not making fun of him. I like Alex. I just can't do justice to his diva wisdom with my own voice. Now, may I continue?"

He got a pained look as he read Emily's reply message "Nah, he's cute but just a kid."

In Alex's voice he countered, "Junior and I are at our sexual peak (sigh)..."

Damian looked up quizzically and shrugged his shoulders and Emily lifted the corners of her mouth, thinking there was nothing more adorably clueless than an unassuming straight guy.

Damian continued…"Men are at their most potent in their late teens and early twenties and women don't reach their peak until around 30…If anything, honey, you're too young for him."

He looked up at Emily again and said "I'm willing to overlook your youth and inexperience and just say I hope I'm around when you're 30."

He lengthened his gaze and said "Alex knows you well. He guessed about that time that you would have begun figuring out ways for us to be together and he contacted everyone he thought you might contact. My God, Emily, all you had to do was tell me."

Emily shrugged her shoulders with a tiny rueful look.

Damian tore his eyes from her and continued "He got a text from Samuel 'Okay, you're right. I've heard from Emily. Why is she so worried about Damian's eating and sleeping habits' to which he responded, 'Just go with it. She'll get to the point soon. She needs someone as good and nice as Damian and he needs someone as hot and lovable as she is….time to turn that boy into a man."

Damian rolled his eyes when he read Alex's assessment of him and after the comment about Emily said, "Well he was right about that one. You see, Emily, you're not being deceptive if no one is fooled. The only one who was being played was you. But Alex meant well. And I don't care what you might have done to put us in that room together. I'm just glad you were clever enough to do it. "

Emily's shock began to morph into relief. She pulled her legs closer to her body, making room on the love seat for Damian.

He took the seat and draped his arm around her raised knees.

"Samuel didn't take that well," Damian said and read on, "I'm supposed to help Emily hook up with Damian? Why him? I'm nice."

"And Alex answered, 'sure you are but what can we do? The lady made her choice."

Damian read that line again to himself, as if seeing it for the first time and turned toward Emily, "except you didn't really make a choice, did you?"

Without giving her time to respond, his mind began racing. Emily hadn't wanted him. She'd just reacted to the suggestion made by Alex. That explained why she said she wasn't sure why she'd made a plan. It wasn't so much Darwinian, as Hannah had said, but Pavlovian.

_Oh, God, I've got to get out of here,_ Damian said to himself, suddenly feeling as though he was smothering.

He said abruptly to Emily, "So if you're feeling better about things, I should be going."

"What? You're leaving? Why?" asked Emily with confusion and hurt creeping into her voice.

Damian stopped short. He'd almost done the same thing to her that others had done. "Man up, McGinty. Go back and talk to her. It won't be easy but you're not leaving here until you've given her the reassurance she needs."

He perched on the coffee table again and held her hands. "Emily," he began hesitantly, "you're not the only one with a perfect memory. It was a truly great weekend. It was wrong of me to try to force you into more."

He put his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her just a little closer, though not too close, as he was still itching for a dignified escape from this room and the girl who didn't return his feelings.

"I'm taking nothing from you. You are now and for who knows how long into the future the girl of my dreams."

Damian planted a quick kiss on Emily's forehead and rose to leave. Just a few more feet and he would be free to find a dark, lonely corner…or better yet, an Irish pub, with gallons of ale…

Emily rose from the couch. _What have I done that he can't forgive me?_ she asked herself. To Damian she called "Why are you mad at me?"

He stopped again (so close). "What?"

Emily stood behind him. "When you came in, you said you were livid. If it wasn't over the computer mess, what else did I do wrong?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It isn't important."

"Yes it is," said Emily, moving to stand between him and the door, "What is it?"

He sighed, looking beyond Emily to a spot on the wall. "I had high hopes for us. But then you wouldn't talk to me and then blocked my number. It felt as if you didn't ca….I guess it was obvious. I should have accepted the weekend for what it was. Maybe I am still a kid. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Damian tried to move around her and reach for his jacket when Emily put her arms around his waist. "No, I'm sorry," she said, "for making you doubt my feelings for you."

He looked behind confusedly.

"Leave your jacket there and turn around," she said softly.

He turned to face her and she melted into his chest. "I've been so worried and stressed but I'm so relieved now. Can't you feel the difference? Put your arms around me."

He did as he was told and could feel how soft and yielding and content she was. It was almost unearthly. He lowered his head to rest on her shoulder.

She purred in saying "Alex didn't do anything but remind me how strongly, if wrongly I was always drawn to you." She was quiet another moment then asked, "Do you want to stay with me tonight? I can't promise that you'll get anymore rest than you've had this week, but you'll enjoy yourself more."

Damian made guttural sounds to indicate yes.

Emily looked up at him and said "I'm sorry I made you mad but now that the fury is over, I kind of like the mad Damian... I want the mad Damian. I want the romantic Damian who gives special presents," she said, letting him see that she was wearing the bracelet he'd had engraved for her, "and knows what to say and do."

Warming up to her theme, she continued, "I want the Damian who still sleeps with a doll. But if I'm ever in that bed, Woody will have to find other accommodations."

"That's what Little Emily is for," Damian responded.

She swayed her hips a little, brushing lightly across his front. "Little Emily? I like it."

Damian looked down on her greedily. "Tell me what else you want."

"I want the Irish charmer no one can resist, least of all me. I want your sapphire eyes and big hands all over me," she said, leading him to the sofa.

As she lay back with Damian hovering over her, she continued "I want the age difference, so I can sometimes think of you as a little boy…." She bent her outside leg so it was wrapped around Damian's back then pushed him down closer "….and treat you like one."

Trying to maintain his balance, Damian said hastily "Luckily, compared to me, you'll always be the old woman." (_Should I have said older_?) he asked himself.

Emily smiled sweetly. "You ever call me that again, honey, and your balls will sit on my knickknack shelf, painted a shiny green, with your name cut into them."

In a moment of glib inspiration, Damian responded "It's the rare woman, indeed, who can increase your arousal while threatening castration. Tell me what else you want."

"I want to be fawked senseless again," she answered, doing her best imppression of his accent. I want all of you…deep…kisses..."

Try as he might, Damian couldn't get comfortable on the sofa. He finally sat up and positioned Emily on top of him.

"I hate this couch," he said, "it's too short for my legs."

"It's supposed to be short," she explained, "it's a love seat. And I like it."

He placed his hands possessively on her rear. "I like this love seat," he said with a mischievous grin. "Anyway, there are a couple of things I wanted to say."

"That's my Damian…get what you want and want more," Emily observed. "Talk to me."

He looked slightly abashed as he began, "Do you remember you first came to me, thinking I had been without sex for so long that it was having a bad effect on me?"

She nodded and he continued "You're a smart woman, Emily, and I'm a good-looking young foreigner...with some money, living in LA." He looked directly in her eyes and asked, "Did you really think I wasn't gettin' any?"

She laughed in delight and said "when you put it that way, it does seem a little ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to think that you needed me."

He answered "I did need you then, I just didn't know it. I know I need you now."

They were both quiet for a moment then Emily said, "Oh my God. Did you do that on purpose?"

"No," he answered, returning to Alex's voice, "but just go with it."

She laughed again and asked "was there anything else?"

"Oh, yes. Since Sunday my computer has blown up with anything I could find on Emily Vasquez."

She moved on his lap so her legs were on either side of him. "Really, like what?"

He answered "video clips from the show, I downloaded all of your music and I have this one folder I've spent a lot of time on."

"Does it have a cute name," she asked.

"In big letters for anyone to see it says 'What I can sing to make Emily twinge,'" he answered. "Bryce has been particularly helpful with that."

Emily was really enjoying herself now. "So you think you've got a winner," she said. "Hit me with your best shot."

Damian put his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs, crossed at the ankles, the picture of laid back confidence, and began in his rich baritone, "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…"

He had chosen That Lovin' Feelin', a song that had induced twinges in women for decades. Emily leaned her head back, thrusting her pelvis against his, "Oh, McG….mission accomplished."

She stood up. "Keep singing," she said, pulling him up with her, "I have something more comfortable than the love seat."

She inserted bits of harmony into Damian's song, while they shed their clothes on the way to the big plush bed in the far corner of the studio apartment.

As they fell onto the bed, he was singing "Baby, baby, I'd get down on my knees for you…"

They ignored the simultaneous buzzes from their phones. The message that flashed across the screens read

_Hey, guys. Guess you've had time to clear the air and make up. Sorry for meddling, except that I'm __not. From here on, I'll let nature take its course, but I do hope the two of you are gettin' busy. It __would be a shame to waste so much combined talent. Love, Alex_


End file.
